Part 12
Angel awakened to the sound of pounding on his door. He looked around
in confusion, finally realizing he'd fallen asleep. He saw according
to the clock at his bedside that it was ten a.m. *I slept for four
hours?*
"ANGEL! OPEN THIS DOOR - NOW!"
Angel groaned, "Cordelia?" He went to the door, and pulled it open,
demanding, "What are YOU doing here! I was coming back to L.A. this
morning."
Cordelia and Wesley were standing at the door. Cordelia stopped to
take in his dissheveled appearance and sighed. "No, you're not," she
replied and brushed past him into his hotel room.
Wesley shrugged apologetically, as if to say, 'Did you expect me
to be able to stop her?'
"You might as well come in too," Angel grumbled and went to sit down
on the bed.
"Wesley and I spent a whole HOUR tracking you down," Cordelia
said. "Your car wasn't at Buffy's, where it SHOULD have been," she
added pointedly.
"Cordelia--" Angel said warningly.
"Don't 'Cordelia' me," she replied. "You didn't answer your phone
again, after the news Wesley gave you. How was I _not_ supposed to be
worried, Angel? So we came here to find you. I can only guess from the fact
that you are in this hotel room and that you slept in the clothes you
wore last night that things didn't go well with Buffy."
Angel snorted in response.
"I'll take that as a yes," Cordelia said. "Can I just ask you
something?"
"Do I really have a choice in the matter?" Angel countered.
Cordelia gave him a raised eyebrow, "Are you two _ever_ going to grow
up? I mean, you're what... two hundred eighty seven, and Buffy's going
to be forty in a month. But you both _still_ insist on making things
waaaaay too difficult."
"Cordelia, I strongly suggest you mind your own business," Angel
growled.
"You stopped scaring me with your growly voice fifteen years ago,"
Cordelia said rolling her eyes. "And why don't you get that I can't
stay out of it because it _is_ my business, Angel?"
"How do you figure that?"
"In that you and Wesley are the closest thing to family I have," she
said. "Hell, you guys HAVE been my family for over twenty years.
Whether you like it or not, that means you get my help."
"You want to help? Then don't meddle," Angel said. "I'm taking a
shower, then we're all going back to L.A." He walked into the
bathroom and slammed the door, indicating any further attempt at
conversation would be futile.
Cordelia turned to Wesley. "I'm going out. You let him leave and I'll
skin you alive, got it?"
"Yes ma'am," Wesley said, only slightly joking. He'd learned that
when Cordelia was determined about something, it was impossible - and
dangerous - to attempt to stop her. "May I ask where you're going?"
"To visit an old highschool acquaintance," Cordelia replied and then
walked out.
Angel awakened to the sound of pounding on his door. He looked around
in confusion, finally realizing he'd fallen asleep. He saw according
to the clock at his bedside that it was ten a.m. *I slept for four
hours?*
"ANGEL! OPEN THIS DOOR - NOW!"
Angel groaned, "Cordelia?" He went to the door, and pulled it open,
demanding, "What are YOU doing here! I was coming back to L.A. this
morning."
Cordelia and Wesley were standing at the door. Cordelia stopped to
take in his dissheveled appearance and sighed. "No, you're not," she
replied and brushed past him into his hotel room.
Wesley shrugged apologetically, as if to say, 'Did you expect me
to be able to stop her?'
"You might as well come in too," Angel grumbled and went to sit down
on the bed.
"Wesley and I spent a whole HOUR tracking you down," Cordelia
said. "Your car wasn't at Buffy's, where it SHOULD have been," she
added pointedly.
"Cordelia--" Angel said warningly.
"Don't 'Cordelia' me," she replied. "You didn't answer your phone
again, after the news Wesley gave you. How was I _not_ supposed to be
worried, Angel? So we came here to find you. I can only guess from the fact
that you are in this hotel room and that you slept in the clothes you
wore last night that things didn't go well with Buffy."
Angel snorted in response.
"I'll take that as a yes," Cordelia said. "Can I just ask you
something?"
"Do I really have a choice in the matter?" Angel countered.
Cordelia gave him a raised eyebrow, "Are you two _ever_ going to grow
up? I mean, you're what... two hundred eighty seven, and Buffy's going
to be forty in a month. But you both _still_ insist on making things
waaaaay too difficult."
"Cordelia, I strongly suggest you mind your own business," Angel
growled.
"You stopped scaring me with your growly voice fifteen years ago,"
Cordelia said rolling her eyes. "And why don't you get that I can't
stay out of it because it _is_ my business, Angel?"
"How do you figure that?"
"In that you and Wesley are the closest thing to family I have," she
said. "Hell, you guys HAVE been my family for over twenty years.
Whether you like it or not, that means you get my help."
"You want to help? Then don't meddle," Angel said. "I'm taking a
shower, then we're all going back to L.A." He walked into the
bathroom and slammed the door, indicating any further attempt at
conversation would be futile.
Cordelia turned to Wesley. "I'm going out. You let him leave and I'll
skin you alive, got it?"
"Yes ma'am," Wesley said, only slightly joking. He'd learned that
when Cordelia was determined about something, it was impossible - and
dangerous - to attempt to stop her. "May I ask where you're going?"
"To visit an old highschool acquaintance," Cordelia replied and then
walked out.